


Samples

by Page_of_Cups



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Bondage, Hand Jobs, Knifeplay, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 21:36:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16668736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Page_of_Cups/pseuds/Page_of_Cups
Summary: Whoops, apparently it's "Valdemar" and not "Vladmear" ┐(;Ծ⌓Ծ;)┌





	Samples

The dungeon was dark and cold and Julian felt terrible. He had been locked in his office for what felt like at least a few days, but it was impossible to keep track of time in his windowless office. Even his internal clock wasn’t capable of giving him a good estimate of how long it had been; the plague made him delirious and fatigued. He couldn’t fall asleep when he tried, and when he was working, he couldn’t keep himself awake. Julian found himself having to peel papers off of his cheek that he had fallen asleep on several times already.

He thumbed through a book he has borrowed from Asra’s library for what felt like the hundredth time. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he felt some sort of draw to it as if the book itself were telling him to open it again -as if the book were telling him he’d find the answers if only he flipped through it once more. Each time Julian returned to his work, it was harder to keep his eyes open and focus on the words and diagrams, but he persisted. He wiped the cold sweat off of his forehead, rested his head in his hands, and fell asleep again.

“Doctor No. 069? Are you dead yet?”

Julian awoke at his desk freezing and covered in sweat. A feeling of dread washed over him when he recognized the voice outside his door: Valdemar. A key jiggled in the lock, and Julian wanted to run, to hide under his desk, to do anything to not have to face them. There was something creepy about the quesator before he had contracted the plague, but now that he was sick, they were downright terrifying. Julian sat up and tried to look as alive as possible. The opposite of playing possum he thought to himself.

Valdemar gave no warning before they opened the door. They pulled up their mask and looked visibly annoyed he was still living. “Not yet, I see though maybe close from the looks of you. I guess we’ll have to wait a few more days. How disappointing. Regardless, Doctor No. 069, we may have use for you in our experiments today yet.”  
Julian stared blankly at Valdemar and tried to mask his panic. At least the plague was a plausible excuse for his uncontrollable trembling.

“Doctor No. 103 has a theory about humours and wants to collect samples from a living plague victim. I don’t remember the specifics because frankly, they were stupid, but how much would we not know if every harebrained idea were immediately dismissed? Perhaps she’ll find something out anyway. Science is wonderful like that.” Valdemar was looking past Julian and smiled widely, clearly lost in thought. He was glad that they were looking at literally anything besides him. He was terrified and exhausted, but he knew he had to keep reading, and Valdemar would get what they wanted one way or the other.

“I suppose I don’t have much say in the matter, do I?” Julian asked.

“Not really, no. However, I don’t mind if you decide to put up a fight anyway... although Doctor No. 103 might.” Their eyes were smiling at the thought. “Granted, I don’t mind if she gets squeamish either. The woman calls herself a physician and couldn’t even stomach getting her own samples. Even you, I’m sure, can appreciate the value of all of this for science, and this woman even claims to have a license.”

Valdemar continued to tell him about the demerits of the other surviving doctors and which of his contemporaries were the most entertaining to dissect, but Julian wasn’t listening. He tried to recall if he knew who Doctor No. 103 was but couldn’t. Between his fear and fatigue, he simply couldn’t focus on whatever Valdemar was saying.  
“Well, stand up then, we have a table waiting for you. Doctor No. 103 even felt the need to wipe it down as a professional courtesy. I don’t really see the point of it, but it made her feel better, I suppose. Let’s hurry up!”

Julian planted his palms on his desk and tried to lift himself up out of his chair. He glanced up at Valdemar beseechingly. The shadows that the dim candlelight threw over their face made them look bigger and more sinister than usual.

“Are you really too weak to stand already? Perhaps I was wrong, and I’ll be able to dissect you by tomorrow morning. Oh, that would be lovely. I’m sure the beetles will enjoy such a big snack too.”

Julian forced himself upright. Every muscle in his body ached and his head started pounding. “I’m quite alright for the time being.”

“Pity. Let’s get going then. I’d remind you to put on your protective equipment, but catching the plague isn’t really something you have to worry about anymore, is it?”  
Valdemar pulled down their mask and led him out of his office into the middle of the dungeon. Julian tried to unstick his drenched shirt from his body with little success. They stopped in front of a vivisection table in the center of the room. It was slightly less disgusting looking than the ones next to it, but there was only so much that could have done about the bloodstains. A handful of doctors clad in aprons, gloves, and bird masks were scattered around the room with scrolls and journals. Each bone-white beak was pointed directly at the vivisection table; all eyes were on Valdemar and him.

“Go ahead and strip then get up here. I assume you’re still capable of doing that on your own.” They said while patting the table.

“Stripping isn’t really necessary, is it?” Julian asked.

“Entirely. You’re not embarrassed, are you? You’re in a room full of physicians. We’ve seen every inch of the human body inside and out. Don’t flatter yourself into thinking you’ll be exciting anyone.”

Julian sighed and pushed his damp hair off of his forehead before slowly, painfully, yanking off his shirt. Valdemar tapped their foot and raised an eyebrow impatiently. Julian pulled off his boots with more difficulty than usual, unwrapped his sash, undid his pants, and let everything drop to the floor. He held his arms out at his sides and turned around for the doctors.

“Happy?” He asked his audience. A few of them began taking notes.

“Up!” Valdemar ordered and patted the table a little more insistently this time. Julian complied as quickly as he could. Valdemar picked up a tube from the side table. “This one is for saliva.” They handed him the vial, and he filled without a second thought. “Lay down. Yes, good. Doctor No. 98, would you help me with the restraints?” Valdemar motioned to a tall, masked figure who had been watching nearby. Julian trie to rack his brain for a name or a face for this doctor but once again retrieved nothing. Two pairs of hands were pulling various straps over his legs, arms, and midsection until he was completely immobile.

“This one is my favourite. Always helps keep back the biters.” Valdemar pulled a strap over his throat. It was just tight enough to be noticeable but restricted the movement of his head significantly. Under nearly any other circumstance, he would have found the idea of being bound, vulnerable, and completely naked in front of a room of people incredibly arousing, but there was absolutely nothing titillating about Valdemar and the other plague doctors. Valdemar picked up the second vial from the table.

“Next is blood, if that even needs to be said. Please do feel comfortable enough to squirm or squeal as you see fit.” They smiled viciously and pulled a scalpel out of their apron.  
“Where should we make the cut, Doctor No. 069? Here, perhaps?”

Julian felt Valdemar press the cold scalpel flat against his jugular. He swallowed hard but said nothing. He didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of begging for however many days of his life he had left. The flat edge of the blade traced down his neck to the hollow of his throat. They turned the scalpel so the blade was barely touching his flesh.

Valdemar leaned closer to Julian’s face and whispered, “Or perhaps we could make this a vivisection after all?” The blade was sharp enough that Julian didn’t notice it was pressing into his skin until he felt the blood dribble on his chest. He pinched his eyes shut but otherwise tried to not react to the cut. Valdemar tutted quietly to themselves. “No need to put on a brave face for my sake, Dr. Devorak.” They removed the blade from his throat and made a quick, superficial cut on his upper arm. Valdemar pressed the vial against the wound and filled it halfway before they corked it, set it on the table, and grabbed a third.

“Good. Last is semen. Would you like to collect your own sample for this one?”

Julian tried to sit up and accidentally choked himself on the strap around his neck.

“Are you serious? Valdemar, I’m willing to do whatever I can to help find a cure, but that’s gratuitous. I won’t go along with that.”

“Suit yourself. It’s a shame though. One of the other doctors told me that this,” Valdemar pulled on one of the straps, “was a special interest with yours. Apparently, you and a little magician made quite a few scenes in the guest chambers, hmm? Though I’d hope one of my doctors would know better than to actually look to a magician for help with studying the plague. Perhaps he was at least of service in other capacities? Should I go see if I can find him to collect the sample for you since you refuse to do it?”

The realization hit him in the gut. Asra. They knew about Asra. Sure, he had mentioned cute little anecdotes about Asra to the other doctors. He told them about the way Asra sometimes mumbled in his sleep and how he would spend hours carving little wooden figurines and how he would braid Nadia’s hair in the library while he worked, but Julian had never said anything within earshot of Valdemar. It was true that Asra had tied Julian down himself dozens of times, but the idea of Asra seeing him like this made his stomach roil - or perhaps that was just the plague.

“Don’t worry. He’s far too busy making other preparations to bother with you right now. I’ll just have to take care of this myself too.”  
Valdemar’s free hand touched Julian’s chest. The leather of their gloves felt smoother on his skin - much smoother than his gloves - as their fingers grazed down his midsection and wasted no time grabbing his flaccid cock and gently squeezing it. Julian turned away in disgust and found himself staring down one of the onlooking doctors. The image of the anonymous white beak was only slightly less unsettling, so Julian closed his eyes instead and tried to recall the dream he had earlier.

His mind refused to focus and kept returning to the thought of Asra. As rough as some of their sessions had gotten, nothing had ever made him feel as revolted or genuinely humiliated as what Valdemar was doing. What would he think if he found out about this? What if he were hidden amongst the doctors and was looking on? Julian would be none the wiser. He didn’t know who a single doctor was behind those masks. Overwhelming shame washed over him as he felt his cock stiffen involuntarily in Valdemar’s hands.

“It’s just so fascinating how they do that reflexively. Life always finds a way, doesn’t it, Doctor Devorak?”

Julian made a pained look and kept his eyes closed tightly. Valdemar pinched the sensitive spot on the underside of his cock that connected his foreskin.

“Doesn’t it, Doctor Devorak?” Valdemar repeated.

This game was fun with Asra but not with them. He knew the only way to get it to stop was to not go along.

“Yes,” Julian said quietly. Valdemar was disappointed with his quick answer. They tightened their gloved grip on his cock and pumped quickly. Julian felt disgusted with himself as his hips involuntarily bucked as much as they could into Valdemar’s hand. He resolved to not let it happen again and peeked just enough to see Valdemar staring back at him. They looked completely bored.

Julian tried to think about something else again and focused intently on Asra. Julian wanted nothing more than to curl up in Asra’s lap and feel his fingers run through his sweaty red hair and just die there. Julian could die in peace in Asra’s lap, he thought, if only he weren’t so close to finding a cure. If he weren’t so sure he had nearly discovered how to stop the decimation of Vesuvia, he would rather have asked Valdemar to use the scalpel on his throat and spare himself the degradation of whatever experiment this was supposed to be.

Julian was no longer able to stop his hips from thrusting instinctively with Valdemar’s tempo despite being barely able to move. He bit his tongue in an effort to keep quiet, but let out a shrill whine despite himself. Valdemar picked up their pace and twisted their hand near the tip of his cock up the upswing. He tried to hold back his moans unsuccessfully. The beginning of an orgasm started to grow in his belly much to his revulsion. His body tensed up and shuddered, causing him to accidentally choke himself on the neck strap again.

Despite everything he was trying to do to stop it, Julian knew he was getting close. No longer able to stop himself, he threw his head back and moaned as quietly as he could. The gentle pressure on his throat sent him over the edge. The first wave of his orgasm landed on his stomach. Valdemar tightened their grip on his shaft to keep it under control and swiftly pressed the mouth of the vail to the tip of his cock. They kept the vial flush against him until his body relaxed and it was clear his orgasm was finished. They corked the vial and put it on the tray with the rest.

Julian tried to keep his heavy breathing to a minimum. He felt like crying, but whether it was from shame, frustration, or his pounding head he wasn’t sure, and he certainly wasn’t going to allow himself to break down in front of Valdemar.

“Is there anything else you need?” Valdemar asked one of the masked doctor’s. Julian was tempted to turn and try to figure out which one had ordered this for him, but he really didn’t want to know. “No? Good.” Valdemar undid the straps holding him to the table and unceremoniously dropped Julian’s clothes in his lap. Julian sat up too quickly and immediately felt faint. He shook his head in an attempt to re-orient himself and picked up the heap of fabric in his lap. His pants were sticky with blood that was pooled on the floor where he threw them. He gagged and struggled to not throw up as he got re-dressed. He blotted the now viscous cum with his shirt as surreptitiously as possible and tugged on his boots. When he stood up, Valdemar handed Julian a lidded cup.

“If you’re not too dehydrated, fill this when you’re able. Let’s get you back in your office now. I’d be loath to upset Lucio when he’s as sick as he is, and we’ve already wasted enough time on this nonsense.” Valdemar clasped their hands in feigned sympathy for the dying Count.

Against his better judgement, Julian glanced around the room. One doctor noticed he was looking at them, looked away, and began writing furiously in their journal. Julian knew he shouldn’t take it personally. They were just doing their jobs after all, and he had been in their place himself at least a dozen time. Considering the things he had sat by and quietly watched, he felt he had no right to feel as angry as he did at the onlookers. They were just as driven as he was to find a cure, he knew, but he still couldn’t stop the rage that he felt about the fact that they were complicit in whatever the humiliation Valdemar had just perpetrated against him was.

Valdemar shoved him on the small of his back to urge him forward toward his office. He complied wordlessly and tried to stride as straight and tall as possible to hold onto whatever dignity he had left.

Julian immediately sat back down at his desk when they arrived at his office.

“To think, that was probably the last time you’ll get to experience that, Doctor No. 069. Anyway, I’ll be back to check up on you in the morning. Please do try to be dead by then. You know how the other doctors feel about vivisections on their colleagues, and I’m quite eager to really slice into you,” Valdemar said before shutting the door behind themselves and locking it.

Julian picked up Asra’s book and thumbed through it with fresh determination. He had to find the cure for Nadia, for Asra, for all of Vesuvia, and for himself, so he would never have to see Valdemar again.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops, apparently it's "Valdemar" and not "Vladmear" ┐(;Ծ⌓Ծ;)┌


End file.
